


TF G1: Getting you into it

by Kurotsuki_no_hana



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 20:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurotsuki_no_hana/pseuds/Kurotsuki_no_hana
Summary: 'How could this have happen! Surely someone would have stopped them! Prowl! Prime! Anyone' He ranted in his processor as he made a mad dash to his quarters. How could he have been so foolish!





	TF G1: Getting you into it

He was running as fast he could in the maze of corridors that was the Ark. His cooling fans were working overdrive and yet he was forcing them to be as silent as he could make them in this case, his processor coming with all sorts of escape plans. 

Back plates met the wall at an intersection, and he cautiously peered at the adjacent corridor, optics scanning for anything and everything out of ordinary. Seeing nothing, he nodded to himself and darted into it. If only he could reach his destination, then he would be safe. He stopped at the next crossing to repeat the same process, his sensors so focused on his goal and what could be in front of him that he let his back completely open. 

Later on he would berate himself for such an amateur and idiotic move. 

The minute shifting of the air as he ventured forward was the only warning he got before he was force down.

Looking down at his prey from his perch on his lower back, he grinned as the other started struggling despairingly, knowing full well what would happen to him now that he was caught. His grin widened, canines showing. _Only one left._

………………………………….

Ratchet shuddered as a sense of foreboding enveloped him, his servos trembling minutely before he forced them to stop. Instinctively he turned from the bookshelf he was organizing toward the door of his medbay, but when it didn’t open he decided to forget it. He was surely just a little tired, nothing a little energon would cure. 

_Speaking of energon_ , he thought, checking his internal chronometer; First Aid was taking a long time to refuel. Frowning he sent his young apprentice a ping, and his frown deepened when it was meet with clear static. He tried again, and again some interference came back to him. “What the pit is he doing?” Then suddenly the light went out. A loud ‘clang’ resounded in the room, followed by a string of curses each more inventive than the other and that would have made blush even the more hardened warrior. Gritting his dentas Ratchet waited for the emergency generator to take over a few seconds later, glad that for once he didn’t have patients (Hound had left a little before with a dent on his helm to remind him to _watch where the pit he was going when exploring!_ ). He downright hated it if it happen while he had patients in intensive care. “If it’s another bright idea of the twins I swear I will reformat them into toasters.” He grumbled as he tried his com’ again, this time trying to contact the one who should have the answer to his questions. So he was more than a little perplex when this time, too, the com-link didn’t work. He then tried contacting the Prime, but got the same result. 

A chill went through him, and considering he was made of metal it was a feast in itself. “What is happening?” Opening his door he glanced outside and into the dimly lit corridor – noticing in passing that the low light made them creepy – but saw no one. _The alarms haven’t been raised so it’s not an attack_. He thought as he started making his way to the control room and to Teletraan I (surely it would tell him what was going on), and hoping that on the way he would encountered someone, because the lack of bots in the corridor was unnerving. He made his way briskly, not wanting to waste time, but as he passed the laboratory, he almost slid to a halt to make a double take. And what he saw made him raise an optic ridge. 

Approaching, he touched the soft-looking white material covering the door with the tip of his fingers. The - surprisingly sticky - substance broke off easily, only to catch almost immediately on his servo. Searching through Earth net he found that it was the product of spiders’ spinneret glands, more commonly known as cobweb. 

Looking around he now realized that every door was covered of it, even parts of the ceiling, walls and grounds. Have they been invaded by spiders? It would explain why the electricity broke, if they had gotten into the generator. But they must be large given the webs. Then again if that was the cause where were they? A sudden sound made him tense and turn, but the corridor was empty expect for him. Great, he though forlornly, _now I’m getting paranoid_. Shaking his helm he turned back to his way to the control room … only to crash into something. 

Or rather someone. 

Someone with a very very familiar paint job. 

Someone who had the gall to grin down at him, but before he could put him back in his place his wrists were taken in a strong hold, effectively stopping him from using his dear wrench. Glaring darkly at the smug - and dangerously grinning – face, he hissed, “What are you playing at?!” Hearing steps behind him, he turned his helm as much as he could to glare at the other one, only to gap when he saw what he was holding. Suddenly, it cliqued. “Oh no, not even in your dreams!” He twisted and managed to hit the shin of the one holding him, the meeting of metal creating a loud ‘clang’, and he was running the moment the grip loosened. 

_How could this have happen?! Surely someone would have stopped them! Prowl! Prime! Anyone!_ He ranted in his processor as he made a mad dash to his quarters (which happened to be just beside the medbay), now knowing why the Ark seemed desert. It was the same thing all over again. He yelped as he was suddenly tackled, his frame colliding harshly with the ground. 

“You are not going anywhere.” A voice growled into his audio receptor, black servos maintaining his shoulders firmly to the ground as he struggled. “Struggle all you want Ratchet, we are not letting you go.” He continued, smirking proudly at his companion in crime “You are the only one left.”

Ratchet froze at that, stunned, all resistance leaving him temporally. The only one left? Then that mean … “Prowl?”

Twin grins answered him, “Jazz got him earlier. Now it’s just you, and us.” Sideswipe answered and then motion at his twin, who started advancing on them. Seeing that – and what the other was holding – Ratchet resumed struggling. “Now now stay put, I promise it will be over soon.” The yellow twin crooned at him with a devilish smile, fangs showing. “But you can continue if you want. I so love it when my preys fight back.”

Ratchet optics widened as he closed on him. _Nooo!_

…………………………………………….

“So they got you too, didn’t they?” 

Ratchet looked up from staring forlornly at his cup of high-grade to the stoic face of the SIC, and snorted at what he saw. “Yes. And it seems they got you good too. I must say, it suits you.”

The mech glowered at the Medic before taking a seat next to him. “The twins?”

Ratchet nodded. “Jazz?” He asked in turn, even if he already knew it was the saboteur.

Prowl bowed his helm. “I must admit he can be very … persuasive.” 

Ratchet snorted again, taking a sip of his energon. “Yes, because jumping you is the best way to get you to comply on something.” He looked down at his own costume, again mortified at the idea of being disguised as a human nurse … again. “I can’t believe I forgot it was today.”

Prowl for his part took in the joyous scene before him, the lights bright and the room decorated with all sort of pumpkins, webs and bats. _Well, at least this time the Decepticons aren’t there_. He though, trying to ignore his itching door-wings. Now he knew how the Decepticons’ SIC must have felt the year before; the material was highly irritating on the sensitive metal. Plus he looked ridiculous disguised as a fairy, complete with wings and all. 

“You are planning on paying them back?

The Praxian darted a look at the Medic before refocusing on the party, making sure that nothing went wrong. Yes, he was planning on getting them back alright. His optics found the mechs in questions, and he watched them laugh at something or another, noting in passing that the twins had opted to be vampires this year, and Jazz a werewolf.

“I know that look. Whatever you are planning in that devious processor of yours, count me in.” Ratchet said, gulping down his energon and hopping he wouldn’t remember any of it the day after.  
Oh yes, they will make them regret it.


End file.
